January 25, 2010
Dear Serenity’s Soul,
Perhaps you feel that I have forgotten you, since three days have gone by and you haven’t heard from me, but that’s not the case. Last time, I did forget to tell you that Mocha is with us and I think she really likes my mother, but this is not about Mocha, and not really about my mother. This is about the magical part of life—how things suddenly change, and the light I thought I’d never see in the midst of my darkness unexpectedly showed itself in a way I never imagined.
My mother wanted to stop in this little town; this little place in the back corner of the world where time seemed to, I don’t know, not exist or something. It just didn’t seem real. It was slow, and quiet, and dry, and weary like. I didn’t feel comfortable, but Mom insisted that I follow her. So Mocha and I followed my mother in a clueless state of mind, taking chances on catching rides from total strangers, and walking some of the way. I wanted to just give up because none of it was making sense, but something in me wanted to know what my mother felt she knew. She was determined to get somewhere, and finally we did.
It was dark, and all three of us were tired, hungry, and thirsty when we arrived at this little well-kept house. My mother looked at me, and I just looked back at her while holding tightly to Mocha.
My mother knocked gently on the door and then there was silence until we heard someone unlocking the door. It was suddenly opened, and a woman stood there with a calm, kind, peaceful look on her face. Her skin was dark and smooth. Her hair was in long beautiful braids.
“Yes, may I help you?” She calmly asked.
My mother leaned forward to show her face more in the light and asked,
“Francis? Francis don’t you remember me?”
I was stunned. What was happening?
Francis looked at my mother strangely in her eyes. “Laura? Laura Corbin?”
My mother smiled and said, “Yes, Francis, it’s me!”
Then they both rejoiced and embraced each other with a hug. Francis welcomed us in, and once inside her home, I felt a warmth that I’ve never felt before. I was confused as I looked around her home. It wasn’t just her home, but there were several women there; women that were looking at us, smiling, as if they were glad to see our faces.
“And this is my daughter, Monica and her little dog, Mocha.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you Monica and your little dog. All of you are welcomed here.”
I smiled, and Francis led us to a little room in the back of her house. There seemed to be a lot of space for such a little home. I turned on the lamp and sat down on the bed. Mocha laid on the floor. I heard Francis tell my mother to go prepare some food for us in the kitchen—that anything we wanted, we could have. My mother thanked her and walked toward the kitchen. Francis stayed in the room with me. She sat down beside me on the bed, and brushed my hair out of my face with her hand.
“You have such a sad appearance, Monica. What is wrong?” She asked.
A stranger, I thought, asking me this question…why does she care, I wondered.
But I answered her anyway. “I’m just tired, and I don’t know where I am. I don’t understand where I am.”
She laughed a little. “I guess it is strange to walk into a little house full of women, so I guess it is only fair to give you an explanation, but you must look me in my eyes, Dear. You must look me in my eyes and listen.”
I just knew she was a special woman, one unlike any other I had ever met.
“We are here because in some way, we have been mistreated and somewhere along the way, we were knocked down and trampled over, and thought to be useless. But we wanted to heal, and to survive, and to help other women do the same. Your mother came to me once, weak, weary, and miserable. She left here and I haven’t seen her for many years until tonight. The fact that she is back, lets me know that in some way, she needs my help….perhaps for herself, but most of all…for you. Why are you sad?”
A tear came to the corner of my eye. “I am nobody. I am sad because I am nobody.”
“Oh, but you are. You are a woman, and inside of you is such power that you just haven’t discovered yet. You are a woman, and your power is in your heart and your soul. You have the strength to overcome obstacles that would mistake you as being too weak. You have the courage to believe love is alive when it seems that love has died and was buried long, long ago. Love lives in you. Beauty lives in you. Peace and freedom live in you. You are a woman, and you have the ability to bring life into this world, and to nourish it, and to watch it grow. In the times that you feel you are alone and that you cannot survive, you must remember the many women before you that were faced with mountains to climb. Perhaps they did not conquer that mountain easily. Perhaps it did take one hard step at a time, one tear at a time, one scream at a time, but think of all the many women before you who made it up that mountain. And when this life whispers cunningly in your ear that you are nobody—you smile! You smile, and you laugh, and you dance, and you shout….I AM A WOMAN! You celebrate that, My Dear, and you will discover the power you have!”
And as the tears came from my eyes, I could not say a word, but I saw her smile and I saw in her eyes what I had never seen in anyone’s eyes before. I saw Serenity and it was beautiful.
Now I must find it within myself.